


Last Night on Earth

by TzviaAriella



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro is Bad at Feelings, Gen, I refuse to call him Ren, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TzviaAriella/pseuds/TzviaAriella
Summary: The night before Maruki's reality crumbles, Akechi confronts his least favorite subject: the truth.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	Last Night on Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beyondplusultra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyondplusultra/gifts).



> Shoutout to beyondplusultra for dragging me into Akeshu hell, as well as making the unfairly painful comic that I pulled the first two lines of dialogue from. I hope this hurts you as deeply as your art has hurt me. :)
> 
> (Also, yes, I did get the title from a Green Day love song. Don't judge me.)

“Akechi, wait.”

Despite himself, Akechi turns back. “What now? Haven’t you said your piece?”

“Stay here. Let me make you curry, or something. Whatever you want.” Joker’s eyes bore into him. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ve lived alone for quite some time.”

“Because you didn’t have a choice.”

“Perhaps. Regardless, it’s never bothered me. Nor you, until now.”

“You weren’t in danger until now.”

“I’m not in danger. I’m dead. I have been for weeks.” The words weigh heavily on Akechi’s tongue, but he spits them out without a struggle. “Nothing real will change.”

“You’re alive right now. That’s real. And I’ve seen you fight too hard for your life to believe it really means nothing to you.” Joker holds out his hand, entreating. “Don’t lie to me, Akechi. You don’t want to be alone.”

 _No, I don’t._ Akechi stares at Joker’s outstretched hand, feeling something heavy and hot settle into his stomach. His chest is tight, and he can feel his pulse surging through his ears, but he can’t afford to show weakness now. Not here. Not to him. For all Joker’s pretensions to democratic leadership, the head of the phantom thieves always gets his way. _If I show him one gram of regret, one gram of fear, he’ll change his mind and claim it’s best for me._ _He’s the star around which everything else revolves, and he knows it._ _His teammates’ opinions, total strangers, even reality itself_ _—all things bow to Joker’s will in the end, or they do not survive._

 **_I_ ** _won’t survive._

_But it’s better than bowing._

“I assure you, I am quite at peace with my situation,” Akechi lies. “It would be better for both of us to get some rest.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that.”

“Can’t I? Unlike you, I’ve been aware of my situation for weeks. Do you know what first tipped me off that something was wrong?”

“I assume you’re about to tell me.”

“I turned myself in to save you. A gallant gesture, to be sure, but not _me_.”

“You’ve done it before. The palace—”

“Was a calculated choice. I knew I wouldn’t be able to bring my father to justice, so I made it possible for you to do it for me. I’m not one of your precious teammates, clinging to you for scraps of praise and purpose. Turning myself in for multiple murders just to save you from a trifling assault charge? Did you really think that was my idea?”

Joker wets his lip. “I hoped.” 

“And I hoped you understood me better than that. Alas.”

“I understand that you’re a dramatic tool. _Alas?_ That’s all you’ve got?”

“Would you prefer I say ‘eff you’ like one of your vulgar little friends?”

“Yes. You might die tomorrow, damn it, and there’s nobody here to impress. Stop pretending it doesn’t bother you and show some goddamn emotion for once.”

 _You’re here._ “An interesting argument. Tell me, if I began weeping into your overpriced coffee, would it change anything? Besides letting you play the helpful hero again, of course. I’ve seen you pull that act before; I have no desire for an encore.” Akechi scoffs, adjusting his glove. “I told you, I’m already dead. No amount of moping will change that. If you want my forgiveness for bringing me back so badly, rest assured that I don’t hold any grudges. You don’t occupy as much space in my head as you think.”

Joker stiffens as though he’s been slapped, his eyes wide. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You wished me back here, as Maruki said—not for my sake, but for yours. Nobody else could have testified in your place at Shido’s trial, and you knew it. Faced with the reality that you would have to give up your freedom, you wished I would do it for you.” Akechi spreads his arms. “And right on cue, I appeared, alive and well and eager to solve _your_ problems for you. Just as you’ve come to expect as your due from everyone else you meet. You didn’t care that I was confessing to capital crimes for you, or that my personality had been suppressed to make room for your needs, but now that my death won’t be useful to you after all, you feel guilty. I understand that. But managing that guilt is your problem, not mine.”

_I have enough to manage of my own._

A piece of lint clings to Joker’s shirt. Akechi studies it, his vision strangely hazy. “I don’t blame you for using me. I would have done the same, in your place. But keep your puerile sentimentality to yourself. I am...I _was_ your rival, not one of your fawning sidekicks. I don’t need or want my rival’s pity.”

Mouth agape, Joker stares at him.

Then he punches Akechi square in the jaw.

Akechi staggers, indignant. “You—”

Joker shoves him backward against the counter, his dark eyes hard and angry. “ _Don’t_ call me that again.”

“What, my rival? We both—” Joker’s fist catches him again, and Akechi hisses like an angry cat. “Stop doing that.”

“Why? This is what rivals do, isn’t it? Not give a damn what the other one wants? I’ve put up with a _lot_ of your bitter, self-pity-thinly-disguised-as-arrogant-superiority act this past month, and you know what? It annoyed the hell out of me, but I figured you’d been through a lot, so talking to you about what an ass you are could wait for a better time. For _you_. Because I _care_ about you, idiot. But there's not going to be a better time, so eff you, you get to hear it now. You can’t look to me for help and expect me to cater to your feelings, but still insist we’re not friends so you can sustain your unhealthy, lone wolf self-image. If you want a rival, fine. I’ll make my decisions without you. But you don’t get to rely on me as a friend and call me your enemy. Pick one.”

 _For fuck’s sake._ “As much as I enjoy seeing you like this, I—”

“Shut up.” Joker’s knuckles clench white on the lapels of Akechi’s coat. “Just shut up.”

Akechi opens his mouth to make another mocking comment, but the fury etched on Joker’s face stops him cold. _Why, I do believe I struck a nerve. How interesting._ Uneasy, Akechi shuts up.

“You want to tell yourself I only want you around for my benefit? Then explain why you’re on my team. I’m surrounded by skilled Persona users already, none of whom tried to _kill me_ , and several of whom had every reason to walk out on me rather than work with you. All of them do, actually. Whatever you think I feel about you, you can’t tell me with a straight face that you think I don't care about Futaba. Do you think I would inflict your company on her just for your goddamn Megidolaon? I have three Personas for that.” Joker’s voice is a deep growl. “I didn’t need you to fight Yaldabaoth; I don’t need you to fight my school counselor. Your _utility_ isn’t the damn point. Don’t believe me? Fine. But follow your own logic to the end. If I only brought you back to testify in my place, why aren’t you still where I sent you? Who wished you out of detention, Detective?”

“Maruki, I imagine.”

“Maruki had never met you before. Sae and the Phantom Thieves were relieved you were alive, but thought you were where you belonged. Nobody else knew or cared where you were. If you’re so sure I only wanted you to take my place in detention, the only person who could or would have wished you out is _you_. And where did you go next? Straight here. To me.”

Akechi wets his lip. “Don’t read too much into it. I assumed you were likely to be helpful.”

“Bullshit. You’re basing your whole analysis of my motives on the fact I didn’t wonder whether you were acting strangely while I was shocked just to see you alive. Of course I wanted to believe you had survived and that you’d decided to be the friend you pretended you were. Was that was naive of me? Maybe. But why didn’t _you_ ever question Futaba and Haru welcoming you into the Phantom Thieves without any protest? Tell me that.” Joker pulls Akechi toward him, his breath hot on Akechi’s face. “And don’t tell me it’s because they’re ‘fawning sidekicks,’ or I’ll punch you again.”

“Perhaps they have a higher opinion of my Megidolaon than you do.”

Joker’s mouth twitches. With a sigh, he lets Akechi go. “You’re impossible.”

“Not in Maruki’s world, I’m afraid.”

“You’re afraid?”

“It’s a figure of speech.” Deflated, Akechi smooths his coat. “Tell me, did you give this aggressive a pep talk to all your Phantom Thieves?”

“None of them needed it.”

“How very kind of you to see to my needs.”

For a moment, he thinks—or hopes—that Joker might grab him again. Instead, Joker sighs and adjusts his glasses. “Anything for my precious teammates.”

“Tch. Your sarcasm needs practice.”

“So does yours. _All_ my Phantom Thieves?”

Akechi’s mouth twists. “That’s not what I—”

“Bullshit.” Joker’s voice is gentle, but Akechi flinches all the same. “Lie to the rest of the Thieves all you want, but you’re not fooling me. You came here because, in the end, you wanted to be one of us. Or to be _my_ friend, if nothing else. That’s what you wished for, isn’t it?”

“Corpses don’t wish for anything,” Akechi says, weary. “It’s one of the few advantages of being one.”

“Maybe so, but you’re not a corpse. Not yet, anyway. And if there’s one thing you’ve usually been honest with me about, it’s how badly you want what you didn’t have.” Joker puts a hand on Akechi’s shoulder, a tentative smile on his lips. “I’m not asking for a lot here, Goro. Just, before you leave...look me in the eyes. Tell me I’m not wrong.”

Akechi stares into Joker’s eyes—so open, so _earnest_ — and for a moment, he wants to confess. A parting gift, to the one person who might want it. Who might want him. _You’re wrong about my life having value, but not about this. You’re not wrong, Akira. You’re not wrong._ For as long as Akechi could remember, there had been a hole in him, a gaping absence where something vital should have been. He had never understood what was missing; he had only felt the loss. Only at the end of his life had he finally glimpsed it, and by then, it was much too late. _Friends, freedom, life_ _—it_ _doesn’t matter what I wished for, if I can’t have it. Don’t you see? I'm not **you**. If I have to lose everything, if I have to lose, better to not want anything at all. _

“You’re wrong.”

Akechi plucks the hand off his shoulder like an errant spider, looking away from the hurt pooling in Joker’s eyes. Tucking his hands into his pockets, Akechi turns and walks away.

“You’re lying.” Joker’s voice is husky, almost hushed. “You do know that, right?”

 _Damn you._ Akechi hesitates in the doorway, staring out into the empty street. _You never give up._ To his surprise, there’s no venom in the thought, no resentment. Just weariness, a touch of frustration...and regret.

Despite himself, Akechi turns back.

“Of course I’m lying,” he says, the ghost of a smile haunting his lips. “How else would you know you were talking to the real me?”

Joker smiles. For just a moment, their eyes meet.

Akechi pushes the door ajar and walks out into the night.


End file.
